My Brave Highlander (33 page)

Aiden's eyes narrowed, and he addressed her in a hushed whisper. "If you and Haldane break McMurdo out, the guards may hurt or kill you both."

"We're not going to break him out, darling. Do you think I'm mad? I told you he deserves to be exactly where he is. He's a murderer. Go bring your brother to me."

Aiden gave her one last glare and shuffled away to do her bidding as he always did. She was glad he was easy to control despite his scruples.

She turned toward the prisoner. "McMurdo, listen to me. Are you awake?"

He grunted and his beady black eyes peered at her. "Aye."

"I paid you a great sum of money to do a job several years ago. But you didn't do that job, now did you? You stole my thousand pounds. That's about the same amount you paid for that crypt in the church, is it not?"

The chains rattled. "I thought he was dead. He fell down the cliff. I swear it. I have no notion how he survived. 'Twas a miracle."

"Lie all you want. I'm making you another deal. Either complete the job now or I'm taking my thousand pounds back."

"How? I have no money."

"You will not be buried in your crypt."

"Nay, m'lady! How will I finish the job now? I'm chained and locked up."

"I might be able to find someone to help you escape."

"Aye, I beg of you, m'lady. Help me out of this hell-pit and I will do whatever you wish. You will allow me to keep the tomb, aye?"

"When I see with my own eyes that the job is complete, aye. And you're not to open your mouth about our arrangement to anyone. We have never spoken."

"Agreed. I'll do it." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'll kill Dirk MacKay this time."

Chapter Eighteen

A half hour after Isobel left Dirk's chamber, a knock sounded at her bedchamber door. Her heart vaulted into her throat. Could it be Dirk?

When she opened the door, she found Dirk's sister waiting there, wide-eyed.

"Isobel, the servants are gossiping," Jessie whispered.

Isobel dragged her friend into the room and closed the door. "About what?" she asked, glad Beitris had gone to the kitchen for a small meal for her since she'd missed breakfast. And, of course, Beitris had had plenty to say about
why
Isobel had missed the meal.

"They are saying you didn't leave my brother's bedchamber all night," Jessie said.

Isobel's face heated. "He is injured and required someone to stay with him." Although she considered Jessie a new friend, she couldn't confess all to her.

Jessie raised an auburn brow. "What are you not telling me?"

"Naught."

"Come now, Isobel. I'm not a naïve and innocent lass. I was in a temporary marriage for a year and a day."

"Aye." Isobel remembered what Jessie had told her earlier.

"And you're a widow. We both ken what goes on betwixt a man and a woman in the bedchamber."

"Indeed." Did she ever! She would never be the same after experiencing such passion and intensity. Now she knew who had all the fun. Wanton women. No wonder they always looked so smug and happy.

"Well?" Jessie prompted.

"That is to say… I ken now… for a certainty."

Jessie frowned. "What does that mean?"

"My former husband and I didn't… have relations. He was unable." Isobel held up a hand. "Before you say anything, I wanted to know what it was like. I had to know, truly, what happened during the coupling. I'm five-and-twenty, after all."

Jessie gaped. "Last night was the first time for you?"

"Aye."

"But Dirk is injured."

"Do you think that matters to a man? He dragged me into bed with him."

Jessie sucked in a quick breath, her blue gaze sharpening, so like her brother's. "How dare he!"

"Nay, I did not wish to object." Isobel smiled as heat washed over her.

"You enjoyed it?" Jessie asked in a skeptical tone.

"Aye, 'twas far more amazing than I could've ever imagined."

"Amazing? I would never call it
amazing
." Jessie grimaced as she paced back and forth.

"Your experiences were not good?"

"Nay. My husband—if you can call him that—in my temporary marriage was annoying."

"Why did you enter into a temporary marriage?" Isobel knew they were commonplace in the Highlands, but rarely did they benefit the woman.

"My father arranged it with a prominent chief to the southeast. As you ken, such a marriage is for a year and a day. If the woman is with child at the end of that time, the couple will most likely wed in truth. If there is no child, the couple can either marry or part ways. I was not with child, so we both chose to part ways. A chief must always have an heir. If the woman is barren, he can send her back to her family and find a more fertile wife. But we only had relations three times during that year. I'm thinking that was not enough." She shrugged. "Not that I wanted him to bed me more than that."

"But you are a beautiful woman. How could he only want you three times?"

"He found another lass more to his liking. They are now in a temporary marriage. He'll probably tire of her in a few months. Men are fickle."

"I hope not all men are." Indeed, what if Dirk tired of her? But what did it matter, since they weren't in any sort of marriage, temporary or otherwise?

"I haven't been around my brother much since we were bairns so I couldn't say if he is fickle or not. If he is canny, he will marry you."

A thrill raced through Isobel at the thought. "I would like that, but I don't want a man who is forced to marry me. He should do it because he wants to. The bigger problem is I'm already betrothed to someone else."

Jessie nodded and sat down on a stool near the hearth. "I ken it. What is he like?"

"Torrin MacLeod is a nice enough looking man—brown hair, green eyes, almost thirty summers. But he is in love with a village lass, 'haps the daughter of a crofter, and has children with her. At least that's what his knave of a brother told me. The clan will not allow him to marry her. He but wanted to marry me for the three hundred acres in my dowry. And 'haps for an heir."

"What a horse's arse," Jessie grumbled.

"His brother is even worse." She'd already told Jessie about the incident at Munrick and how she'd near bashed in Nolan's head.

"Men think women are naught but animals for breeding purposes," Jessie said. "What we want matters not at all. I don't care if I never marry. Likely, I'd be happier staying here with my family."

"Aye, 'tis true. My brother wouldn't allow me to stay home any longer. He's unfeeling and harsh at times, but protective of the clan."

"When Dirk becomes chief, he'd best not try to make me marry some grouchy old bastard," Jessie said.

Isobel snickered. "You are more like your brother than you realize."

Jessie gave a sheepish grin. "I suppose so. Are you ready for the hearing? I hope Dirk will officially be appointed chief soon, but I fear Maighread will do something to stop him."

***

"Well, look at you, chief," Rebbie said as soon as Dirk left his bedchamber and stepped into the corridor.

"What?" Dirk asked, wondering if Rebbie had also been here when Isobel had exited a short while ago. He hoped not.

"You look like a true Highlander now with that belted plaid and no trews to hide those hairy calves."

"Kiss my arse." Dirk strode away, the two-handed Highland sword strapped to his back thumping against his hip.

Rebbie snickered and caught up with him at the end of the corridor. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Better." Dirk only had a mild headache this morn. Although not pleasant, it was tolerable.

"I'd say you had one hell of a night," Rebbie said.

"What are you talking about?" Dirk paused, hoping—nay, praying—Rebbie knew naught of what had happened between him and Isobel.

When Rebbie gave a knowing chuckle, Dirk realized the truth of it.

"Spying on me now?" Dirk demanded.

Rebbie shook his head, hardly able to contain his amusement. At least he was trying to keep it low key so as not to draw attention. "I came to check on you earlier and I heard you two arguing."

"Eavesdropping? That's low, even for you."

"I couldn't hear what you were saying, despite a few yells." He snorted. "Besides, Erskine guarded your door all night. He knows Isobel never left your room until this morn."

"Some guard he is if he can't even keep his mouth shut. I'm going to have a talk with him. Where is he now, by the way?"

"He needed to go relieve himself, so I told him I'd guard you for a little while. He's new to it. And he figured you wouldn't mind if I knew about Isobel."

"I do mind. I was injured and the healer gave me some kind of drugging potion. Most likely opium poppy. I was not myself and hardly remember it."

"Och. 'Tis damned unfortunate. Because, of a certainty, you want to remember when you've…."

Dirk sent him a cutting glare, warning him not to go too far. He would tolerate no crude remarks about Isobel. "Say naught of it. Maighread and her people cannot find out or Isobel could be in danger." That was the important thing. Of course, she probably already knew, if Haldane had anything to do with it.

"I'll tell no one. You ken that. But I wish to congratulate you." Rebbie held out his hand for a shake.

"What for?"

"You're going to marry her, are you not?"

Dirk's heart rate quickened at the thought, for he did want to marry her. But he didn't yet know how he'd accomplish that, given all the obstacles in his way. "Aye, of course. 'Tis the only honorable thing to do considering she was…." Dirk snapped his mouth closed.

"Was what?" Rebbie's dark eyes widened with curiosity.

"She's a lady," Dirk amended.

"Forget honor. That woman will make you happy."

"How do you know? You're no expert on marital bliss. Besides, the very thought of marriage terrifies you, does it not?"

Rebbie shrugged. "This is not about me. You're different with her. And clearly, she cares about your health, considering how she warmed you up with her almost bare body last night. She's precisely what you need to get you out of your grumpy mood."

"I'm not grumpy," Dirk muttered, distracted by the delightful memory of Isobel lying on his naked body the night before to share heat, naught but the thin smock between them. She'd warmed him up, for a certainty. His shaft had been awakened first, ready for action even before he could feel his numb toes.

He adjusted his sporran, making sure the pouch concealed his burgeoning arousal at an awkward time. The kilt was one of his father's clean belted plaids. He thought it appropriate for the hearing with the MacKay clan. He also wore an ivory linen shirt and a gray doublet he'd brought with him.

Continuing on, they passed a group of clansmen. Rebbie nodded to them and changed the subject. "And how is your head feeling this morn?" he asked Dirk. "There's still a nasty red mark on it and a bruise."

Given that Rebbie had already asked about his health, he knew it was for show. "Better. It doesn't pain me as much."

"Are you hungry?"

"Nay. A servant brought me bannocks and eggs earlier."

The great hall was a buzz of activity. Several clansmen fell silent when they noticed Dirk and Rebbie enter, then they came forward to inquire after Dirk's injury. He was glad to see most members of the clan were concerned about his well-being, and that they were also welcoming.

All the elder male clan members and gentlemen of the clan, including Haldane, Uncle Conall and Keegan sat down around the tables in the great hall, as did Rebbie and Erskine, while Dirk and Aiden took seats at the high table. His father's
ceann-cath
or sword-bearer, his
fear sporain
or treasurer, and others who held official positions were also present. Maighread lurked in one darkened corner like a hungry spider. He ignored her poison scowl and glanced around.

Isobel entered and stood on the opposite side of the room with Jessie, Seona, and several more women. Isobel's dark gaze always bewitched him, even now, at twenty paces. What power did she hold over him? He had to stop staring at her for she distracted him far too much.

His father's
senachie
, Phelan, who was also one of the elder clansmen, rose from the bench. His long white beard gave him a wise and distinguished air. "This hearing is to determine who the rightful chief of the MacKay clan shall be. We want a strong leader who is also the son of our revered former chief, Griff MacKay, may God rest his soul." Phelan's rich voice rang out and everyone listened intently. The man was a gifted orator, and had been telling stories of their ancestors to the clan all Dirk's life, and long before.

"I remember when Dirk MacKay was born." Phelan motioned toward Dirk. "I was standing right here in this hall when the proud Chief Griff MacKay came down the stairs carrying his firstborn son. The bairn was screaming to the top of his lungs, roaring like a wee lion cub. We could tell then he would be a fearsome warrior one day, just like his father and his grandfather before him. I ask that you all honor the memory of Griff MacKay by acknowledging his firstborn son, Dirk MacKay, as the rightful and current chief." Phelan resumed his seat.